


Dean's Wish

by jaminsjiminsjams



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Supernatural Reader insert, spn fanfic, spn fanfiction, spn reader insert, spn reader insert fic, supernatural fanfic - Freeform, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform, supernatural reader insert fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaminsjiminsjams/pseuds/jaminsjiminsjams
Summary: Y/n is a hunter that Sam and Dean met on a case.





	Dean's Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Memories will be separated with lines:  
> \------

Y/n’s face twists slightly, and she swings the fire-poker, the spirit disappearing in a puff of smoke. She grunts, tossing the weapon in her hand as she breaks down the door in front of her, taking another swing at something when it appears in front of her. But, the figure whips around and grabs the poker, ripping it out of her hands and tossing it to the side. She tilts her head at the man who stands across from her, and he glares slightly, another man coming up behind him, this one a bit taller.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Y/n’s eyebrows shoot up, and she cocks her head.

“I was wondering the same thing, darling,” she snarls, her hand snaking to her gun. Dean’s lips twitch slightly, and he nods, lips parting.

“Ah- yeah, right. Of course.” He looks back at the man as if to say can you believe her. The taller man shrugs slightly, a look of concern etched on his face. “Well, we just came here to check out the place. Heard it was haunted,” the green-eyed man leans in, his lips quirking into a smile. “Spooky, huh?” He backs up and sniffs slightly. “By the way, a fire poker isn’t a great weapon,” he moves his arm in a swinging motion. “Easy to grab and turn against you.” Her eyebrows narrow as she tilts her head innocently. She places her hands on her hips and blinks.

“Oh really?” She asks, her voice laced with venom. Dean squints and nods once.

“Yeah. You really shouldn’t be here though. Things could get…messy.” Dean says warily, glancing over at his brother. Y/n tilts her head.

“Well- I ain’t afraid of no ghost.” She chuckles to herself, and glances away, her expression growing concerned as a loud wailing sounds from the other room. She moves forward quickly, only to have the man place his hand on her shoulder.

“Wait! I don’t think that’s a good idea- Sam, you go check it out, I’ll stay with her.” Y/n wrenches away from him and scowls.

“I can handle myself, thanks.” She all but growls. Dean frowns as she quickly moves past him, to the room where the sound came from. He quickly follows her.

“Wait! Really- it’s not what you might think it is, please, wait!” He shouts. She glances over her shoulder quickly, giving him a small smirk. “No, look out!”

When y/n turns, she’s met face to- well, half of a face. She whips out what looks like a nightstick and slashes it to the side. The slick rod extends out, and she swipes it in front of her, successfully warding off the ghost for the time being. She swings around, striking at it again when it appears behind her. “You should get out of here!” She shouts, practically dancing around the room, gracefully fighting the spirit. “Hurry!”

Dean glances at his brother and tosses the bag to him. “Go find the remains- salt and burn them.” Sam shoots him a quizzical look as he pulls out his shotgun. “Go, now.” His brother picks up the bag and darts out of the room. Dean watches her as he works quickly to put the rock salt in his gun, impressed at her techniques as she moves around the room. The ghost wails, and finally manages to knock the nightstick from her hands. The weapon snaps to its normal, smaller form, and the ghost flings her across the room.

Y/n grunts when her body is thrown into the wall, and she sags to the ground, the ghost quickly moving in on her. Dean steps forward quickly, raising his gun. “Think again, you son of a bitch.” He fires the shot, and the ghost howls, vanishing quickly. He moves over to her, picking up her weapon on the way and crouching next to her. She sputters, looking up at him and grabbing the nightstick-like weapon. “You’re a hunter?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he helps her to her feet. She nods wordlessly and heads towards the door. “What? No thank you?” She turns and tilts her head.

“Why would I…”

She lunges forward at him, quickly snapping her arm outwards to extend the weapon to its full length and swings it directly towards his head. He ducks, startled in the sudden outburst and hears another wail as the ghost appears behind her as she completes a full turn, slashing the weapon through the figure again. Dean reloads his gun, and they move backward, her back pressing to his as they look around the room cautiously. The figure appears again, and he fires the gun, y/n reacting instantly as it appears in her line of view, darting out to thrust the weapon towards the ghost.

“Right!” Dean shouts, and she whips her arm out to the right, turning enough to view Dean.

“Behind you!” She starts, moving over to him as he shoots the figure. They stand side by side, working together to fight it off. “What’s taking your partner so long?” She comments breathlessly.

“M-my brother,” he fires another shot, “and I don’t freaking know.” He begins to reload the gun, and y/n glances around the room cautiously. She tosses the stick in her hands, anxious for when it will appear again.

“Mind hurrying up with that gun?” She asks.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m doing my-” Dean’s suddenly thrown backward, the ghost flickering in front of him as he has him pinned to the wall.

Y/n moves forward, only to be thrown against the opposite wall, much harsher than Dean had, and the iron rod falls out of her hands. She chokes and sputters, the oxygen quickly leaving her lungs, her vision growing fuzzy.

\----------

“And then,” Dean says, “Sammy finally decided to gank that bastard- and y/n’s stuck with me ever since.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at Dean and kisses his cheek.

“You’ve told that story like, fifty times. It’s not even that good.” Dean shrugs and tips his head down.

“I like it,” he whispers.

“I hated you,” Y/n laughs softly, shaking her head at his ridiculousness.

“Oh- you loved me, you know you did.” He winks and brings his hand up to cup her face. “I know I loved you.” She smiles, finally meeting Dean’s gaze.

“I know Dean.”

“We all know,” Sam interjects, rolling his eyes as he sets his book down. “We knew before you did- we knew when you told the story last week, last month…” Dean turns and gives his brother a stern look.

“Shut up, Sammy.” He says, turning back around and tugging y/n closer to him. “I really do love you.” He whispers, lowering his voice for only her to hear. “You’re my wish come true,” he murmurs. “Everything I’ve ever wanted. I can’t believe you’ve stuck with me, y/n.” He kisses her forehead and sighs softly. “This isn’t the life I want for us,” he rasps, “I want us to be happy, safe…have a nice home, a family…” His voice trails off, and he rests his forehead on hers.

“Dean…you don’t, you like this life- you always go back to it.” She whispers. “I like this life- a life with you, doing good, keeping people safe…” Y/n sighs softly, and wraps her hands around his neck, nudging his forehead off hers. “We’re hunters, Dean. I wouldn’t want a normal life- it’s too…slow, too boring.” She kisses the tip of his nose and pulls him closer. “I have stuck around you for more than a year.” Dean laughs dryly.

“This is the life you want?” He asks.

“I want to be in a life with you,” she answers.

“But hunting?”

“As long as you’re in it.”

“But, with-”

“Dean,” she cuts him off, “I would take any life with you Dean.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he brushes his nose against hers.

“Yeah?” She nods, returning his warm smile and gripping the ends of his hair.

“Yeah.” His grin widens, and he kisses y/n. “I want you in my life. No matter what I’m doing, or where I am.” She smiles.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.” Dean mumbles. “You, you are the best wish I’ve ever made.” She smiles.

“You wished for me?” He nods, glancing down.

“Yeah, I-”

His gaze tears from her, and to a fading figure behind her. A girl in a torn dress, covered in dirt, and blood. His head tilts, and his lips part as he scans his gaze over the room. Sam stands happily with Jessica, his soon to be wife; his Dad and Mom watch him adoringly.

He turns his gaze to y/n, her e/c eyes staring up at him, her lips parting questioningly.

“What’s wrong Dean?”

A pained expression crosses his face, and he pulls away from her.

“No, oh, God.” He closes his eyes tightly. “Please, no.” Y/n tilts her head and reaches out for Dean.

“What’s the matter, Dean? Babe, what are you-” He rips away from her, diving to the kitchen and yanking one of the knives out of its slot. “Dean, stop! Dean, what the hell are you doing- Dean!” He glances up, moving forward quickly and brushing his thumb under her eyes, wiping her tears away and kissing her softly; a long, slow kiss before he turns away, and without a second thought, plunges the knife through his chest.

Dean’s eyes open as he gasps, and Sam’s eyes fill with relief. “Dean- I was worried you weren’t going to pull yourself out this time.” His gaze drags around the room- some seedy motel Sam had probably brought him to while he was unconscious, and a heavy sadness fills his chest. “What did you see there?” Sam sits down next to his brother.

“Nothing much,” he answers. “Hey- man, I’m starving. Could you go grab some food?” Sam slowly nods, standing up.

“Alright, man. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah- I’m just starving.” Sam nods and heads out the door.

“Alright. Your phone’s right there if you need me.” Dean nods, holding his head in his hands as Sam warily goes out the door. He sighs, standing up and walking over to the chair Sam tossed his jacket on.

He reaches in the pocket, pulling out the wallet and rifling through it quickly, producing a small, square photo. He slumps back down on the bed and stares down at her. H/c hair, e/c eyes, and the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. Dean’s breathe comes heavier, and his eyes grow moist. He closes them tightly and wipes the tears away that spill out.

Dean swallows, and lays back on the bed, closing his eyes, holding the picture close to him. Although the reality had been fake, he desperately wished he could go back. Even if it meant he would die- he wanted to go back, so he hoped, he prayed that sleep would grant him some time with her; even in a dream, where nothing was real, anything to hear her voice, to see her, to feel her, and to love her again. He didn’t know what drove him to rip himself from that reality in the first place- he was happy, and she was alive. She was breathing, smiling, and laughing. Dean closes his eyes, whispering softly as he slowly drifts unconscious: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry y/n/n…it was my fault, I’m sorry…I love you.”


End file.
